Writing and Salvation

Writing is a rich giver of gifts; it helps heal, it can light the way out of a fog, it can slay fear.   Sometimes I write, but first, I am a reader.   Of real, actual, old fashioned books.  I read fiction, nonfiction, biography; I stay away from the murder-and-mayhem aisle.   I read many books solely based on someone's recommendation - almost anyone, really.  Even non-readers, though that trust has taken me down some dark paths.  A few pretty scary books came to me that way.

I read purchased books, I read paper books, I read electronic books.  I like to write in some books;  it helps me think.  For years, writing in a book felt sinful, but now I embrace it;  it changes the way I read.  It helps me appreciate the author or a sentence, and it helps me keep track when a book contains an ungodly number of interrelated or unrelated characters.   Reading may be a solitary pleasure; book clubs are a joyful communion of eager, disparate souls.

There are times when a well-turned phrase or brilliant sentence stops me cold.  The sheer joy and appreciation of it.  I remember when I first read John Irving, many sentences had that effect.  (Caution - don't read autobiographical works by authors you admire and enjoy.  I did and found him smug and exceptionally, arrogantly, obnoxious. I have been unable to enjoy his fiction since).  Harry Crews was an exception to the no-mayhem rule, recommended by a non-reader.  Crews is a violent minimalist; he can deliver the most astonishing jolts with the fewest number of words imaginable.  (I know this is nerd-heaven, I admit it.  This has been me since I was old enough to bike to a neighborhood library as a little, little girl.  Confused the non-reading parents and six siblings.  That tiny building on Bala Avenue was the first of many libraries I fell in love with.  Libraries and hardware stores, what a goof.)

Walt Whitman.  And here, nerd meets sports fan - I love excellent writing about the sublime sport that is baseball.  I thought none reached Walt Whitman's heights, but here are a few I stumbled on today.
From George Will:   "Baseball, it is said, is only a game.  And the Grand Canyon is only a hole in Arizona."

And from John Updike, with a gloriously crafted sentence reporting on how he felt as Ted Williams hit a home run in his last at bat in Fenway Park in 1960:  "It was in the books while it was still in the sky".

Makes a girl want to pick up a pen.  How I wish I could write those sentences.  And how grateful I am that someone can.